Freckles and Chocolate Frogs
by The Infinite Abyss
Summary: How had he fallen in love with one of his best friends was a mystery but why, that’s another story.


Disclaimer: the characters do not belong to me.

**Freckles and Chocolate Frogs **

"Hermione!" he yelled.

Hermione rolled her eyes and didn't reply back. Didn't he know she was busy? As of matter fact she had asked Harry and him to leave her alone until she was unoccupied.

" Hey Herm-oh-ninny!" he yelled again. His frantic hands waving at her, desperate for attention.

"What is it, Ron?" she snapped. Her hazel nut eyes gaped at him warningly as if telling him: you better say something important or else. And he could tell she meant this because the quill she was clutching _almost _drill a hole through the parchment.

"Well, what?" Hermione asked again.

"I -- its such a nice day outside," he began, "doyouwanttogoforawalkorsomething?" He mumbled the last part due to the pink hue of his ears. Ron drew his left hand, out of his pocket, as he began to brush his flaming red hair; while he waited for an answer of some sort. (It was a bad habit of his whenever he was shy or embarrassed.)

It took Hermione one long minute to decipher Ron's mumble before responding to his request. She bit her bottom lip and looked over the possibilities of going out and staying in. If she went out, she would lose time to finish her two essays. But then again her essays were due in a week's time and she could spend time with Ron. On the other hand if she stay in, she would finish her homework and possibly receive extra credit or something. _Ron or homework? _

"All right," Hermione resigned the prospect of doing homework. Ron grinned down at her as she started to collect her things.

"Do you -- er -- need any help?" he asked, light heartily, as he watched her pile three books and five parchments on her arms.

She shook her head, "You can't go to the girl's dormitory, remember?" So she climbed the stairs, alone, with a pile of writing and reading utensils. "Be back in a bit," she called out.

---

It was such a nice day. The color of the sky was a forget-me-not blue with a few scattered fluffy clouds. Because of the heat a lot of people had dipped their feet and ankles on the cool lake. Ron and Hermione were one of the few who tread along the grassy path. They walked, side by side, almost touching but not quite.

"Er-- thanks for the muggle CD," he told her, interrupting the tedious silence.

She smiled, "Their music is quite lovely. Is a shame they've split."

"Yes," he simply stated.

"Do you want to sit, here?" she asked. He nodded. They ended up sitting under a tree's shade where a small amount of sunshine poured through the tree's leaves. The ground was soft and full of scattering leaves and grasses. It was perfect. Best of all, both of them were half hidden from the Hogwarts' population.

"So d'you have something to talk about?" Hermione traces the outline of her skirt's hem.

"I suppose you don't want to talk about Quidditch…" he sighed, helplessly.

"God no," she replied with an amused expression on her face. "And I don't think you would rather talk about school."

He grinned and shook his head. Of course not. "What do you want to talk about then?" he asked.

She scratched her chin before retorting, "Chocolate frogs, clouds, anything really."

He laughed. "Surely you don't want to talk about that. You'd love to talk about literature and such things."

"I do too. Literature has its moments but I would like to talk about chocolate frogs now."

"Go on, then," he waved his hand.

"Well -- er, they have a rich chocolate flavor…" she ventured on the delicious flavor of chocolate frogs as he observed her intently. Her brown curls bounced as she brought her hands up to reenact the movement of chocolate frogs. Ron grinned as he watched her pretty pink mouth move. Idly, he pulled up tufts of grasses as he thought of many ways to kissed her lips. It was the only sort of control he had right now. How had he fallen in love with one of his best friends was a mystery but why, that's another story.

"… and that's that," Hermione beamed.

"Right," Ron said.

"Were you even listening?" she asked accusingly. Her eyebrow half raised.

_No. _"Yes", he lied.

"Are you being truthful?" she glared at him.

"Completely," he raised his right hand as if he was on oath.

"All right then," she drops her suspicions and looks over toward the lake where a large tentacle has trickled, serenely. "They're insane," her eyes wandered to the students dipping their body parts into the lake.

"Why so?" he asked, divert by her last comment.

She ignored the question and instead looked at Ron. "Is it really bad luck to count people's freckles?"

He shrugged. He has never heard of such a thing.

"I don't know either," she said. She reached over and began counting Ron's freckles, silently.

_Bloody hell, _he thinks, _she's touching me. "_You won't be able to count them all, Hermione," he assured her, his voice sort of strangled. _Please let go before I go insane… _

"I have all day," she drawled out as she continues to count.

"But some are so light you won't be able to count them," he pointed out.

"Shut up Ron."

She leaned forward in order to count all the freckles in his face. She is so close he could smell honeysuckle. _This is mad. _Her hair brushed him, softly, across his arm. _This is torture. _Her creamy white skin makes contact with his own, again and again.

"Hermione," he whispered.

"What is it, Ron?" she mumbled.

"Its time to go," he struggled with his own voice.

"Oh," she said and let goes of him, blushing.

"Well how many?" he asked as he stands up, brushing leaves off his robes.

"Er -- thirty-three," she lied. She wasn't really counting.

"Thirty-three?" he said, amazed.

"Yes," she responded. It sounds about right…


End file.
